The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Still In Line

O my! 
Look...
you have cut your precious skin,
what happen to the blood within?
Has it dried from all your sins,
or maybe it is being stored; knows that you could use some more.
But why this cut, upon your wrist?
Did you slip awkwardly, and said tsk tsk,
what a hurtful cut I could of missed.
Or did purposely you grab the blade;
felt your skin could need a better shade?
Or you got tired and needed pain,
forgot the feeling of a needed wane.
O dear!
What this...
a pocket knife?
Was this the tool to risk your life?
No wonder no blood could not have been surged,
this small metal is dull and has been much served;
too many it's uses has gone with it's time,
that's why your skin bruises and itches, what crime!
But I see there's a pattern,
of lines on your arm...
do you feel, the need to cause your own harm?
Or are you just bad at cutting with knives?
You need some more practice,
your still here in line!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace